


Lucky Escape

by theprincessed



Series: Love, Sex and Magic: Random Ficlets [10]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a mishap whilst riding around LA on his motorbike. Louis picks up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies! Just a quick one from me (with a terrible title, I'm sorry, it's 1k!).
> 
> I saw the pictures of [Harry in LA](https://31.media.tumblr.com/f2cfbc95e1eabb650adeb73653529567/tumblr_inline_n47av6Pv4s1r9395m.png) riding around on his motorbike and an image of Louis kissing his forehead somehow came into my mind...so this happened. At 1.30AM yesterday. I don't even know!
> 
> I keep hurting Harry, oops. I love him a whole lot really. <3

It’s a sunny April morning the first time the shrill ring of Louis’ phone wakes him up. 

Maybe he should feel guilty for still being in bed with technically only one hour left before midday, especially since his mother is wrangling his new siblings day and night with very little respite, but he’s going on a worldwide stadium tour soon, so that’s his excuse for his laziness and he’s sticking to it.

Louis does what he does every morning when he doesn’t want to get up yet and rolls away from his phone vibrating on the bedside table, pulling the sheets over his head until the person trying to interrupt his beauty sleep (“you’re always beautiful,” he hears whenever he complains, making him roll his eyes, even as he secretly preens at the _always earnest_ compliment) eventually stops calling.

Except the noise doesn’t stop.

After the fourth cycle of the ringtone, it’s grating enough that he pokes his head out of his nest. Curiosity admittedly piqued at what could be so important, he flops onto his back, limbs spread eagled, before he remembers and looks to the space next to him. The sheets are cold and the pillow smooth because Harry is a freak of an early riser at the best of times, especially when he has something new to be endearingly excited about.

Louis snaps his eyes to his phone at the thought. His blood runs cold.

\---

Ten minutes later, Louis is out the door with his hair in his eyes, mismatched shoes and almost certain that his t-shirt is inside out. It’s a big relief that the Range is in the garage and that Harry’s keys were to hand for Louis to use, but the feeling is brief. Harry not being out and about in one of his fancy or reliable cars can only mean one thing.

He’s taken the motorbike.

After a hellishly frustrating time in traffic, where he knows he probably broke a few speed limits, Louis veers into the hospital carpark with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. The call from a calm-voiced nurse had been mercifully quick, Louis’ panic propelled into action with no time to think of the details.

Hair as wild as his terrified expression, Louis tries to tame it and run towards the ER at once, managing to get himself in order with a headband found mysteriously entwined around the Range Rover’s gearstick and not fall flat on his face. That wouldn’t do Harry any good.

His heart clenches so hard in his chest it’s nearly painful as he accidentally bumps into the first bewildered nurse he sees when a familiar voice calls his name, making him wheel round in the opposite direction. He feels like he’s gonna be sick when there, sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, slumped over as if he’s waiting to be royally told off, is Harry.

Louis rushes over, heart still thumping madly, but valiantly trying not to let too much of his anxiety show. Now that he’s closer he can see his worst fear has come true. Harry damn Styles got into a fight with his stupid motorbike and predictably lost. There’s a thin strip of tape across the bridge of his nose and more collected at his brow bone, stitches visible above his left eye and his right arm is in a sling.

“Did you hurt your head?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

Still seated, Harry looks up and shakes his head. Louis spots his helmet on the chair beside him, a little bit scratched but otherwise intact, so he hits him upside the head.

“Ow! Louis!” he exclaims, wincing when he forgets his arm and tries to protect himself. “What was that for?”

“What – ” Louis’ mouth drops open, past shock and well into anger. “What was that for? You fell off a motorbike, Harry! You could’ve died!” Harry frowns but before he can say anything, Louis throws himself forward, crushing his neck in a tight hug full of relief and love. They stay like this, Harry pinned to his seat and Louis towering over him, for a few minutes until Louis’ heart returns to normal and he no longer feels like he’s going to cry.

“Sorry,” he sniffs, only pulling away so they’re nose to nose, “I just – ”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, suitably chastised and resting his uninjured arm around Louis’ waist, keeping him close. “Baby, its okay, I should be sorry, I didn’t think – it was so stupid of me and I really wish – I should never’ve – ”

Louis cups his face and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, smiling against his skin when Harry stops mid-sentence. “Think that’s the first time in a while that I’ve heard you ramble like that. But it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re in one piece.” He nods down at Harry’s bandaged arm. “What’s the damage?”

“Ah, just a sprained wrist,” he sighs, mumbling the rest at his thighs.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He lifts his chin because Harry knows he has no choice but to give in and repeat. “I said, I wasn’t going that fast anyway.”

“Babe, You were on a motorbike...” Louis raises his eyebrows, sceptical and a little suspicious that there’s more to this than Harry’s telling him. “Haz, what happened?”

He takes the helmet with his left hand and lays it at his feet, patting the space on the hard seat, but huffs a surprised breath when Louis plonks himself across his lap instead. It’s a risky move but Harry’s feeling too fragile to be cautious.

“I kind’ve, might’ve been going slow and...tried to avoid a cat. And I broke my sunglasses.” For several seconds, Louis appears to be rendered speechless by Harry’s words and the scrunchy, embarrassed face he pulls. To be fair, he did sort of adopt that from Louis.

“You swerved for a cat?” he repeats carefully, lifting a hand to his mouth as he starts to giggle. “Oh my god, Harry, that’s so – it’s so – _you_.” He gives him another kiss, this time a soft, lingering one to the mouth that leaves Harry giddily dopey like he’s had more drugs than they actually gave him. It’s easy for Louis to take the credit. “I love you so much, darling,” he says, rubbing their noses together for maximum effect.

Harry blinks hazily. “Say that again.”

“I love you so much,”

“No, all of it.”

“I love you so much, _darling_.” He makes a low sound of approval at that and a shiver runs through him unexpectedly. Louis grins because okay, maybe he knew that a few endearments, especially that one, would cheer him up, so he shifts his arse against Harry’s crotch and leans in to whisper in his ear. “How about we go home, so I can play nurse to my poor, injured baby, hm?”

He’s pleased to see the cheeky look on Harry’s face at the thought of the impending TLC. He certainly had a lucky escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies x
> 
> I'm on Tumblr. [Come say hi if you like](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com).


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